


Letters

by aggiepuff



Series: Soulmate Singles [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Jon Stark is a Himbo, M/M, Mild Angst, Platonic Soulmates, Robb Stark is a Dumbass, Romantic Soulmates, Sansa Stark has all the braincells, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aggiepuff/pseuds/aggiepuff
Summary: This Forced Family Fun roadtrip vacation was all Aegon's fault. She told him how to avoid the penpal program but nooo, her brother just had to get a penpal.On the up side: she and Aegon now knew about their half brother. On the downside: she was spending two weeks of her summer vacation in The North.
Relationships: Aegon VI Targaryen/Theon Greyjoy, Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark, Past Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen - Relationship, Robb Stark/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), past Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen - Relationship
Series: Soulmate Singles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882498
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the amazing [Whedonista93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93) for being the best beta EVER!
> 
> And thanks to [Becky_Blue_Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becky_Blue_Eyes/pseuds/Becky_Blue_Eyes) for being an amazing sounding board and giving me such good ideas!

It was all [ Aegon's ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/4b/65/13/4b6513aa7381f859ad8eb0643597d2bc.jpg) fault.

[ Rhaenys ](https://thenetline.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Isabela-Moner-ss1.jpg) sighed and tried to stretch into a more comfortable position in the back of her family's SUV. Aegon, because this was technically his trip, and therefore his fault, was relegated to the front seat next to their mother where he had to sit up, without the luxury of a bench seat to sprawl across. Rhaenys didn't feel an ounce of pity.

The sky was blue as a robin’s egg, dotted with fluffy white clouds. She watched through the window, the shadows cast by a tree’s edge occasionally gliding across her face. It was a lovely summer day, the type of day she would usually spend with her many cousins surfing off the Dornish coast or relaxing at the Martell family villa, _El Jardín del Agua_. Instead, she was in The North where summer temperatures didn't rise above 85°F. 

It all came back to Aegon and his ridiculous school project. Rhaenys didn't understand how he got roped into the penpal program when she told him _exactly_ how to avoid it. It was like he went out of his way to do the opposite of what she said.

To be fair, Rhaenys knew that if it weren't for the penpal program, she and Aegon wouldn't have managed to wheedle out the fact they have a half brother from their ridiculous father. Why Rhaegar didn't tell them from the beginning Rhaenys didn't understand. She loved her father, truly she did, but sometimes he was an aromantic pansexual _dumbass_. Yet, contrary to his dumbassery, here they were, driving north to meet Jon Snow and his mother Lyanna.

Rhaenys glanced at her mother's face. [ Elia Martell ](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/1175696821433327616/MpGnACeu_400x400.jpg) was a beautiful woman who passed on her thick, curly black hair to Rhaenys and brown skin to both her children. Her nose was strong, lips full, body tall and willowy. And - Rhaenys could just see the curling script- she had her Soul Names tattooed by Fate on each of her wrists.

Truth was, Rhaenys' bad temper about this road trip could be ascribed to one singular fact: her mother was about to meet her Romantic Soulmate and Aegon was going to meet his Platonic.

She sighed, shifting on the seat. Rhaenys really shouldn't feel jealous. After all, didn't her mother deserve happiness? 

After Elia and Rhaegar finally figured out they were Platonic and amicably divorced, Elia hadn't dated or been involved with anyone. She devoted herself entirely to raising Rhaenys and Aegon - until Aegon discovered that his penpal was not only their half-brother but that Jon's mother's name was Lyanna, just like their own mother's second Soul Name.

Rhaenys, whose Platonic Soulmate was Sarella, her cousin, tried to be happy for Aegon and her mother. They were finally getting pieces of the puzzle they'd been missing their whole lives. Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t jealous. And it certainly didn't mean she wanted to travel all the way North.

It was cold in The North. There were bears and direwolves in The North. Archie Yronwood still told stories around the campfire about cannibalistic tribes and armies of the dead wandering The North. 

True, that last one was probably made up, _but what if it wasn't?_

"Oh," Elia breathed.

"Wow," Aegon echoed.

Rhaenys sat up. "What is…" her voice died in her throat.

A great stone castle stood before them, rising up from rolling green hills in a countless collection of large turrets and gray-black roofs. A thick gray wall enclosed the fortress, pierced at the front by heavy, wrought iron gates. The bright blue sky outlined the walls and roofs in crystal clarity, somehow reminding Rhaenys of a wolf at rest. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Winterfell, the famous home of the even more famous Stark Family who had governed The North before the constitutional monarchy of modern Westeros. 

Rhaenys bit her lip, stuffing down the anxiety twisting her gut. She was _not_ intimidated by Winterfell. Just because her own home of Sunspear was more palace than fortress didn't make it any less impressive. She was familiar with ancestral homes, having spent the majority of her life living in at least three of them. She _refused_ to acknowledge the similarities between Winterfell and Dragonstone. 

As their SUV trundled up the long, twisting drive to the south facing wall, the castle grew bigger and bigger until it towered over them, at least 40 feet tall. Elia slowed to a crawl before the iron gates and a woman in a gray and gray-blue uniform stepped out from a guardhouse just to the left of the entrance. She approached their car and Elia quickly rolled down the window.

"Name?" The guardwoman asked, voice gruff, soft breeze tugging at the wisps of white hair on her head.

"Elia Martell, and Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen to see Jon Stark and Lyanna Stark?"

The woman smiled and her face was transformed from stern gatekeeper to cheerful groundskeeper. "Excellent," she said. "Master Jon's been waiting for ye." She turned and waved to someone Rhaenys couldn't see, giving them a thumbs up. As the gate began to open, she motioned them through. "Follow th' signs t' the main keep. I'll call up to let'm know ye're comin' in by the South Gate."

Elia nodded. "Thank you."

Rhaenys leaned forward between the two front seats. Reluctant as she was to be on this family vacation, she didn't want to miss a thing. Crossing into the ancient fortress almost felt like stepping back in time. 

More buildings and walls and paths than Rhaenys could count created a city inside Winterfell's walls, almost as large as Wintertown just outside. Somehow, the entire estate seemed in pristine condition, without the characteristic wear and decay of most ancient castles. Even her beloved Sunspear had almost constant restoration, but even the roads inside Winterfell were lacking in potholes, and the hedges and shrubs were neatly trimmed.

"Jon says Winterfell hosts school groups all year round. And the blacksmith makes artisan iron- and silverworks. Plus they're one of the largest exporters of wool and cashmere in all Westeros."

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me our new brother is another nerd."

Aegon turned in his seat to scowl at her. 

"Rhae," Elia sighed as they were waved through an interior gate by another guard, "be nice, _por favor_?"

"Yeah, Rhae, be nice," Aegon echoed, "and don't forget: Jon doesn't know we're royals so just _shh_."

Rhaenys rolled her eyes. "What, you think that centerfold spread in _Westerosi Vogue_ three months ago isn't a dead give away? Or, you know, _your name?_ What about Dad? You know he can't keep his mouth shut."

"What's got your panties in a twist?" He demanded, face reddening angrily.

"Aegon!" Elia reprimanded sharply.

"She started it!"

"And I'm ending it! Rhae, we are going to be here for two weeks and you will be nice and polite the _entire time_. Aegon, you will not antagonize your sister."

"I didn't-!"

"Ah! Enough. Look, we're here." The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a large stone - well, Rhaenys would probably call the base a manor but the edges were rounded with a great turret reaching up to the sky, the whole building made of the same heavy gray stone as the rest of the fortress. 

A [ woman ](https://images.app.goo.gl/ya53ihwdfBehTRJS6) and a [ teenager ](https://images.app.goo.gl/8pR2g7wK8ezKR63k9) stood in front of the doors, smiling. Both were of average height with pale skin and dark hair. The woman looked to be in her thirties with a long face and dancing brown eyes. Her smile was wide and welcoming, clean white button down shirt tucked neatly into dark jeans. The teenager was…

"Holy shit," Rhaenys breathed, staring, "he looks like Dad."

"Well, duh," Aegon snorted and hopped out of the SUV.

Elia glanced at Rhaenys. "Rhae?"

Rhaenys sighed. She knew what her mother wanted. The fact that Rhaenys shouted for an hour straight when she found out about her half brother was inconsequential. She was Rhaenys Martell Targaryen, Princess of Westeros, second in line for the Iron Throne. Her father was Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. She was expected to act in such a way as befitting the royal family at all times - even when meeting her father's love child. 

"I'll be nice," she promised with a sigh. 

Elia smiled. "Thank you."

Rhaenys gave her mother a smile. Elia didn't often ask favors. She knew her children had enough pressure from their grandmother Queen Rhaella. Rhaenys could be nice about being dragged to The North over her summer break if it was her mother asking. She could even try to make friends with her unknown half-brother.

"Welcome to Winterfell," the woman who could only be Lyanna greeted Rhaenys and Elia as they exited the SUV. Jon and Aegon were already talking a mile a minute about who knew what, completely unaware of their surroundings.

"Thank you for having us," Elia answered, shifting automatically into gracious guest. "I see you've met my son," she gestured to Aegon, "this is my daughter, Rhaenys."

Lyanna smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Rhaegar has told me so much about you. It's wonderful to meet you at last."

Rhaenys eyed the woman, returning her handshake. "Really? He hasn't told me anything about you."

Lyanna shrugged. "I asked him not to tell anyone. I just didn't realize he would include you in that request. We're Platonic, you see, and I didn't want all the publicity of having the Prince's child."

"Oh. I thought you didn't know who we were."

"Jon doesn't," Lyanna explained. "I love my son dearly but he isn't the most observant of boys. Don't misunderstand, he is intelligent, but, well, it hasn't quite registered that his father is the Crown Prince "

Rhaenys bit her lip, fighting a smile. "Eggy is like that, too."

Lyanna laughed. "No wonder they get along so well."

"Well, they are Platonic."

"Yes," Lyanna nodded. "Speaking of," she glanced nervously at Elia, "I don't suppose…"

Elia beamed and pulled black the sleeve of her tailored silk blouse. On her left wrist was the clear cursive "Lyanna" that had adorned her skin for as long as Rhaenys could remember.

A pink flush colored Lyanna's cheeks and she swallowed hard. "That is, uh - I mean -"

"Oh gross," Rhaenys sighed. "If you two are going to flirt, I am going to be elsewhere."

Elia sputtered but didn't deny the coquettish glances she was very obviously throwing Lyanna's way. Rhaenys faux gagged and headed over to Aegon.

"So," she said when she reached the pair, "you're my new baby brother."

Jon Stark was pretty instead of handsome, with smooth pale skin like Father's, his face framed by his mother's dark curly hair. His eyes, unlike Rhaenys' and Aegon's, were not the traditional Targaryen purple but rather a warm brown. Were it not for his striking resemblance to both Aegon and Rhaegar, Rhaenys might not have known he was a Targaryen.

He blushed at her approach, stammering an almost incoherent, “Yes.”

Aegon glared at her. "Stop trying to intimidate him."

With effort, Rhaenys released the tension in her shoulders, rolling her neck to reset from the haughty princess angle she used as an automatic defense against strangers. With her posture much looser, she tilted her head at Aegon. A curl of her short hair fell forward from behind her ear. "Better?"

Aegon rolled his eyes. "Ignore Rhae," he told Jon, "she's weird about meeting strangers."

"But he's not a stranger," Rhaenys protested. "He's our brother." She turned a far too toothy smile on the younger boy. From what Aegon had told her, Jon was roughly six months younger than Aegon. That meant he was conceived maybe a month or so after her parents finalized the divorce. It really was an amicable split, Rhaegar was a good father and Elia's best friend, but he'd kept Jon Stark from Rhaenys. "Do you know what that means?"

Jon swallowed, adam's apple bobbing nervously. "What?"

Rhaenys slung an arm over Jon's shoulders. He stumbled as she pulled him in close. "I've got sixteen years of torture to pack into two weeks."

Aegon groaned. "Rhae, you promised you'd be nice!"

"I am being nice!" She protested. "I show I care with gentle bullying."

"Hey, no one bullies Jon!" A high clear voice shouted.

Rhaenys turned. A small figure raced across the courtyard, short brown hair a wild mess, jeans and ratty t-shirt smudged with dirt. The ragamuffin skidded to a stop in front of Rhaenys, gray eyes flashing angrily up at her and she saw it was a girl of maybe twelve with a pointed little chin, pert nose, and long face. There was enough resemblance that this girl-child could only be another Stark, one of their two daughters.

"Arya, it's okay," Jon tried to soothe the little firecracker, slipping from beneath Rhaenys' arm.

Arya narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Jon sighed and placed a hand on Arya’s small shoulder. Turning to Aegon and Rhaenys, he smiled. “Rhae, Eggs, this is my younger cousin Arya. Arya, remember I told you my half-brother and sister were visiting?”

The shorter girl studied Rhaenys, taking in her dark skinny jeans, black crop top, jean jacket, and heeled boots. “I don’t see it.”

Rhaenys’ mouth twitched. “Neither do I, but Dad doesn’t lie. He keeps secrets,” she shot Aegon a look, “but he doesn’t lie.”

Aegon rolled his eyes. He hated when she talked in allusions, said it made her a good future queen but was very annoying. 

“Right,” Arya drawled, following Rhaenys’ glance to Aegon. “Jon, are you going to give them a tour?”

Rhaenys stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and hung back as Jon showed them around Winterfell. From the back, he and Aegon were built the same, slim hipped and broad shouldered. _Like tortilla chips_ , she thought with a smile. 

“What’re you smiling at?” Arya demanded.

Rhaenys glanced down. The gravel pathway crunched beneath her boots and Arya walked at her elbow, looking straight ahead. “They’re shaped like triangles.”

Arya blinked, looking up. “What?”

Rhaenys grinned, pointing at her brothers (and wasn’t that weird to think about). “Them, their torsos. They’re shaped like triangles. Like tortilla chips. Broad shoulders and thin waists."

Arya snorted. “Don’t tell them that. All the girls already think Jon is pretty.”

“ _Mis hermanos son muy guapos._ ”

“What?”

“ _Mis hermanos -_ my brothers - _son muy guapos_ \- are very handsome.”

“Ugh, if you like pretty boys.”

Jon pushed open a gate and led them back into the large, open space where they first drove in.

“You’re too young to like any boys,” Rhaenys informed Arya.

“Boys are boring,” Arya agreed without agreeing. 

“What’s this place called?” Rhaenys asked, gesturing to the wide open space. The gravel drive made a large circle, branching occasionally to flow through different gates. The center was clear with a handful of buildings and one tower scattered around the edges.

“Uh, the courtyard.” 

Rhaenys pointed to the tall tower across the open space. “What’s that?”

“The Library Tower. Are you going to be asking questions the whole time?”

Rhaenys shrugged and one shoulder of her jacket slipped down. “You’re supposed to be giving me a tour.”

“ _Jon_ is giving the tour.”

Rhaenys snorted. Jon and Aegon were twenty feet ahead by now, well out of hearing range and completely oblivious that Rhaenys and Arya were no longer really with them. “He’s giving Aegon the tour.”

“So go join them,” Arya grumbled. 

She glanced back at the boys. Did she really wanna deal with their bro-Platonic-Soulmate bonding? _Ni a putas_.

“Are there any horses around here?”

Arya’s gray eyes brightened. “You like horses?”

“Of course. I do jumping competitions for my school.”

Arya stopped in the middle of the path, staring at Rhaenys. “What kind of school do you go to?”

“The Morningstar Academy.” 

“Sounds fancy.”

Rhaenys tilted her head. Surely Arya knew about Morningstar. She was a nobleman’s daughter. There was no way she didn’t go to an equally posh boarding school in The North.

Before she could ask, Arya veered left, heading away from the boys. Rhaenys’ steps stuttered and the gravel scattered as she changed direction to follow her. 

The stables were against a far wall, a long low building of polished wood surrounded by a green field. A large covered arena was at the far end and, as they approached, Rhaenys caught the distinct whiff of hay and horses. 

A tall man with a scraggly beard - wearing way more flannel than Rhaenys had ever seen on a single person before - greeted them at the stable door. He smiled, eyes crinkling warmly. “Lady Arya, what can I do for ye?”

Arya lifted her pointed little chin. “Hullin, is Ladybright in her stall?”

“Aye, Lady Arya. Shall I get her saddled?”

Arya shook her head. “I can handle it.”

Hullin lifted an eyebrow. “Are ye sure, my lady?”

Arya’s eyes narrowed. “ _Yes.”_

Rhaenys bit her lip. She recognized that stubborn streak. She’d seen it more than once in all of her cousins. Without a word, she followed Arya down the row of stalls to a box stall halfway down where [ a pretty dapple gray mare ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a2/11/e4/a211e40214c9b4f935018c03ee64f1e8.jpg) hung her head over the door. 

Arya's face immediately gentled at the sight of the mare. "Hello, girl," she greeted her, stroking her forelock.

"Is she your horse?" Rhaenys asked. Ladybright snorted and she held up her hand, allowing the mare to inspect her palm. Satisfied that Rhaenys' fingers weren't carrots, she turned back to Arya, whiffling at the short girl's brown hair.

Arya giggled, gently pushing the mare away. "Yeah. I've been riding since I could walk. Mother thinks it's unladylike but Aunt Lyanna says it's good for posture and exercise."

Rhaenys nodded. "She sounds smart, your Aunt Lyanna." Slowly so as not to startle Ladybright, she lifted up her hand and began to gently stroke the mare's neck. Ladybright leaned into the touch, tilting her head when Rhaenys scratched at the spot just behind her ears. "What's she like?"

Arya shrugged, combing her hand through Ladybright's mane. "You know, she's my aunt. The best person ever and sometimes I wish she was my mom." Arya's mouth twisted. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Rhaenys asked innocently.

Arya scowled at Rhaenys from beneath Ladybright's chin. "I'm not an idiot. I know who you are and I know who Jon's dad is and I know Aunt Lyanna has your mom's name on her ankle."

Rhaenys hummed. There was a lot of research about the placement of Soul Names. On the wrists, like Elia’s, meant your soulmates would be your helping hands. Over the heart, like Rhaegar’s, meant close bonds. The ankles were for Soulmates who would lead you new and exciting places.

“Lyanna says Jon doesn’t know.”

Arya snorted. “Jon is an idiot.”

Laughter bubbled up in Rhaenys’ chest, an almost overwhelming peal. It was the first time she’d really laughed since leaving Sunspear. It was all just so ridiculous. She was trying to interrogate a twelve-year-old about her mother’s potential new girlfriend and Aegon was somewhere bonding with his new Platonic. If this were Dorne she’d go beg some wine from _Tio_ Oberyn. 

Ladybright snorted and tossed her head. 

“S-sorry,” Rhaenys giggled, stroking the mare’s strong neck. “Sorry, Lady. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You’re weird.”

Rhaenys grinned at Arya. “Yes, I am. Hey, do you think we can go for a ride?”

Arya frowned, considering. “I don’t see why not. You’ll have to ride Ladybright though.”

“I would be honored to ride Ladybright. Thank you for sharing her.”

Arya huffed, scuffing a boot on the barn’s concrete floor. “Whatever.”

Arya made quick work of saddling Ladybright, using Rhaenys to haul the saddle and blanket while she fetched the bridle. It was one of those light saddles, small without a saddlehorn. Arya directed Rhaenys on setting it on Ladybright’s back then took the reins and led Ladybright down the barn. 

At the far end the barn doors were pulled wide, opening onto the covered arena. As they approached Rhaenys heard a deep, warm voice muttering encouragement and soothing words. Arya grinned, tugging Ladybright along a little faster. 

A handsome [ teenager ](https://em.wattpad.com/e99d846ced35de5cca382d5a71523a17fd382b43/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f51763852455f7a707a6941666d413d3d2d3734373132393833382e313561393961373836393266393532633330313431333130373435312e676966?s=fit&w=720&h=720) with curly dark hair and a jawline to cut glass worked a [ tall thoroughbred ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/61/69/29616997ab9ae94c5501b76fafaf8d05.jpg) around the arena, taking it through its paces. The chestnut shied when it came too close to the fence and the young man settled into the saddle, keeping his seat even as the youngling skipped and jumped sideways. 

Rhaenys let out a long low whistle. “That is…”

“My big brother Robb,” Arya said proudly.

_Robb._

Rhaenys blinked, suddenly tensing. A phantom sensation ghosted across her back. 

Sarella. Robb. Those were the names tattooed across her shoulder blades on either side of her spine. _Like wings_ , her _abuela_ once told her. _They will lift you high, cariña. Your Soulmates will be your wings._

Sarella Sand, daughter of _Tio_ Oberyn, was Rhaenys’ best friend. They’d been together since the cradle. She guarded all Rhaenys’ secrets, knew her every fear and anxiety. She held Rhaenys when she felt like she would shatter into a thousand pieces under the royal pressure. And Rhaenys did the same for her. 

Sarella, however, was Rhaenys’ Platonic. She wasn’t her Romantic. Someone named Robb was her Romantic. 

“Hey, Robb!”

The chestnut snorted and jumped and Robb pulled the rein to his left knee, forcing the horse's nose around and for it to turn in circles until it was calmed down. With the horse settled, Robb looked up. His eyes were as blue as the Dornish sea. Rhaenys swallowed hard.

"Arya, what did I say about volume when I'm workin' wit' Sunrise?"

Arya colored, huffing irritability. "Are you done? You need to meet Rhaenys."

Robb's blue eyes slid to her and heat blossomed across Rhaenys' cheeks. Robb Stark wasn't pretty like Jon. He was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome that sent spasms twisting across her stomach like butterflies taking flight. When he smiled her entire stomach flipped over. 

"Jon's sister, right?" He looked her up and down. "You're from Dorne. That must be why you're wearing a jacket. You're too Dornish to handle the cold."

His words were a suckerpunch. The breath was knocked from her lungs and she had to force them to expand. Slowly, carefully, she turned to Arya. "Hey, I know I asked to go riding but I'm suddenly not feeling very well. I think I'll go lay down for a while."

Without looking at Robb's stupidly handsome face, Rhaenys spun on her heel and fled the barn. She raced without running all the way back to the main house where she found a servant who directed her to another, smaller building nextdoor that was the guest quarters. The room given to her was on the first floor and Rhaenys collapsed on her bed, turning on her side to send a quick text to Elia and Aegon to let them know she was staying in her room for the rest of the day.

 _Too Dornish_.

Rhaenys didn't know how long she lay there, staring at nothing, until her phone started to vibrate in her hand. The Caller ID read "Kepa," High Valyrian for Father, and she sighed. 

"Hello?" She answered.

"Hey, _dārilaros_ ," Rhaegar's warm voice greeted her. "How's it going?"

Usually, the High Valyrian word for “princess,” Rhaegar’s favorite pet name for her, made Rhaenys smile, but not today. She sat up, propping her elbows on her knees and forcing herself to sound relaxed. "Pretty good. _¿Como estas?"_

 _"Estoy bien. Pero,_ Mom says you're not feeling very good?"

"I'm fine," Rhaenys lied, "I just needed to lay down."

"Oh." Rhaegar paused, then, "What d'you think?"

"About what?"

Rhaegar sighed, heavy and loud. "Winterfell. The North."

"It's alright. A little cold but that's to be expected."

"What do you think of Jon?"

Her mouth twitched. "He's another nerd, isn't he? Just like Eggy?"

"He couldn't be nerdier if he wore glasses and a pocket protector," Rhaegar agreed. "I love him, he's my son, but I'm pretty sure he's a mathlete."

" _Wooow_. No wonder he and Eggs get along so well."

"And Lyanna?" Rhaegar prompted.

"I like her," Rhaenys answered readily. "She and Mamá are getting along really well."

"Excellent!"

It was nice, Rhaenys thought, that her dad still loved her mother in his own way and wanted her to be happy. "Hey, _Kepa_?"

"Yes, _dārilaros_?"

"Why didn't you tell Mamá about Lyanna years ago? I mean, you have to know they're Romantics."

"You're right, I did know, but I wanted it to happen naturally. You know how things go when it's forced."

Rhaenys nodded. Yes, she did know. When her _abuelos_ saw one of Elia's names was of the Crown Prince they couldn't wait to introduce their daughter at court. What resulted was a great friendship that her parents felt obligated to develop into marriage. For purposes of succession, Rhaegar was required to have children, but that rushing left Rhaenys with the most awkward first five years a toddler could experience. "Yeah, I guess."

"What else?" Rhaegar prompted, almost too eagerly. 

Rhaenys stiffened, suddenly suspicious. "What else is there?"

"Meet anyone interesting?"

The question was too casual. Irritation flared to life in her gut. "Like _who_?"

Rhaegar seemed to sense her anger. He immediately jumped to defend himself. "His name is Robb!"

Rhaenys jumped to her feet, pacing the width of her bedroom, steam metaphorically pouring from her ears. "I know what his name is, _Kepa_! That does not mean-"

"How could it not?"

"Because Robb is literally the fifteenth most popular boy's name in Westeros. It's like naming a daughter Jeyne! Everyone knows twenty Robb's!"

"And your name is Rhaenys. How does that one rank?"

Rhaenys scowled. It was true, not many people named their daughter Rhaenys. No one wanted to name their daughter after two doomed queens - except her dad, apparently.

"Okay, fine, my name is uncommon, but that doesn't change the fact that he _didn't react_ , alright?" Rhaenys collapsed back on her bed, the fight suddenly leaving her, finally allowing the sorrow to rise. Her eyes burned and a single tear slid down her face. 

When Arya named the boy riding in the arena as her older brother Robb, Rhaenys almost had a heart attack. Then, instead of saying _literally anything else_ , he made fun of her for wearing a jacket and said it was because she was too Dornish.

It was that phrase, "too Dornish." 

Rhaenys remembered clearly the day she met her grandfather for the first time. Aerys Targaryen was a shrunken, feeble man with wicked, overbright purple eyes and a vicious, half-crazed smile. It was only by the grace of the gods he was born into a tertiary branch of the Targaryen family and only made Prince-Consort when he married his third cousin, Queen Rhaella. 

Rhaenys shuddered. Grandfather Aerys said she was "too Dornish" to be a real Targaryen. He suggested they set her on fire to see if she really had dragon blood. Rhaegar's fury at the idea still gave Rhaenys warm fuzzy feelings. He'd worked tirelessly from that moment and eventually succeeded in convincing his mother that Aerys needed to be removed from public life completely. 

The old man died when Rhaenys was ten, having lived the remainder of his life in almost complete isolation on Dragonstone. Still, the very phrase "too Dornish" was enough to take her right back there, shaking like a leaf inside Aerys' private study, the wizened face of her grandfather peering down at her, wanting to see her burn.

On the other end of the line, Rhaegar sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that, _dārilaros_."

With enormous effort, Rhaenys wrenched herself away from the memory. She sat up wiping away the tears. "Thanks, _Kepa_."

"I love you, you know that, right?" Rhaegar's voice was as soft and gentle as a fleece blanket. 

Rhaenys felt his words settle around her in a warm embrace and smiled. "I love you, too."

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"We can video chat," Rhaenys suggested. "I can get everyone together."

"Sounds perfect. Good night."

"Night!" She waited a beat then hung up. Alone again with her thoughts, Rhaenys stared at the opposite wall without realizing it was there.

So Robb Stark wasn't her Romantic Soulmate. There were plenty of other Robbs in the sea. She was young, just 18. She had her whole life to find him. At the very least she knew she wasn't aromantic like her father. Rhaenys was 100% sure she was heteromantic and 85% sure that she was demisexual. That left her with the standard 75% chance she would one day meet her Soulmate.

* * *

Sansa grabbed Robb the moment dinner was done. Without a word, she dragged him to the nearest empty room. Arya, Jon, Theon and their new friend, Aegon, followed behind curiously.

With the door shut behind them, she rounded on Robb. “ _So?_ ” she demanded.

Robb flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Arya folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, right.”

Sansa’s blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’ve been panicking for two weeks, ever since Jon said she was visiting.”

“Ever since who was visiting?” Aegon piped up. He had taken a seat on the comfortable leather couch, flanked by Jon and Theon. Sansa wasn’t surprised. Everyone knew Jon and Aegon were Platonic. The big surprise of the day was when Theon burst into the living room where they were all hanging out and, after twenty minutes of ridiculous flirting, asked for a private word with the prince. When they didn’t come back after fifteen minutes, they’d all gone to find them, only to open a closet door on Theon and Aegon in the middle of a heated make out session. Apparently, they were Romantics.

That, however, did not answer Sansa’s questions. She fixed her brother and Platonic Soulmate with an icey, blue-eyed glare. 

“Ever since you told Jon your sister was visiting,” Theon answered with a wicked grin. “He has _Rhaenys_ on his right bicep.”

Aegon gasped. “Rhae has _Robb_ on her back!”

Arya burst into peals of laughter. “Oh my gods! You fucked up! You fucked up so bad!” She doubled over, giggling helplessly.

“It’s not funny!” Robb shouted. 

“Yeah, it is,” Arya gasped, straightening and wiping tears from her eyes. “You made fun of your Romantic for wearing a jacket and called her ‘too Dornish.’ That is the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“You did _what?”_

Sansa flinched. Aegon stood, suddenly seeming much larger than his slim 5’10” frame. Rage radiated like dragon’s fire from him and he stepped forward, menace in every muscle.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Robb protested.

“I don’t give a _fuck_ what you meant by it,” Aegon snarled. “You will _never_ say that again, am I clear?”

“Chill, babe,” Theon said, leaning back on the couch, completely relaxed. “Like he said, the idiot didn’t mean it. Besides, it’s not like it actually hurt her feelings. I mean,” he glanced around at his adopted siblings, “in case any of you have forgotten, I’m the only one who’s actually met her. She’s definitely an Ice” - he glanced at the furious Aegon and changed what he was going to say - “Queen.”

Jon frowned. “You’ve met her? Why didn’t you say?”

Theon stared at him. “C’mon, Jonny, you can’t be that thick.”

“What?”

Arya sighed. “He doesn’t know and neither of his parents told him.”

“Told me what?” Jon looked between Theon, Aegon, and Arya, eyes wide. 

The rage seemed to vanish from Aegon and suddenly he was, once again, a placid looking sixteen-year-old. “Told you that Rhaenys is second in line for the Iron Throne - and I’m third.”

Jon’s jaw dropped.

Sansa rolled her eyes. Jon was a sweetheart but he was also a total himbo. “We’re getting off topic,” she informed them. “I want to know what the heck happened to make you go stupid!”

“I - I don't know,” Robb stuttered. “I just said the thing about the jacket and she ran away!”

Aegon turned back to Robb, giving him a purple-eyed glare. “Of course she did. You probably triggered one of her worst memories with that ‘too Dornish’ bullshit.”

Before Robb could ask and get lost in a guilt spiral, Sansa cut it, “So how are we going to fix this?”

“I don’t know!” Robb cried, collapsing back into a chair. “You just - you don’t understand, San. The first time I saw her it was like seeing the sun rise over the mountain meadows in Spring, like the fresh air at Last Hearth, like the beauty of the first Winter snow, like -”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY _ANY_ OF _THAT_ INSTEAD OF INSULTING HER?” Sansa bellowed.

“Owww,” Arya whined, rubbing her eyes. “Gods Sansa, did you have to shout?”

The tall redhead gesticulated wildly, obviously disgusted beyond words. Robb slumped, covering his face. 

Aegon sighed. “I’m sorry Jon, Theon. I wanted to spend the next two weeks getting to know you better but _apparently_ ,” he cast Robb an irritated look, “I have to help this idiot.”

“Welcome to my life,” Theon laughed. 

* * *

Rhaenys woke up to loud thumping at her door. She blinked, reaching for her phone. The time read 7:32. She groaned, burying her face in her pillows.

“Rhaenys! Get up!”

“Go away!”

“Rhae!”

“I hate you,” she grumbled, grabbing her housecoat. Shuffling across the room she yanked the door open to see Aegon smiling cheerfully down at her. Behind him stood Jon and Theon Greyjoy. She frowned. “What’s Greyjoy doing here?”

Lord Theon Greyjoy was an unpleasant pain in the ass from the Iron Islands. Rhaenys liked his sister, Lady Asha, who held the Salt Seat of the Islands, but Theon was an utter pillock. 

Aegon grinned. “Romantic.” 

“ _Mierda_ ,” she sighed. “Why are the gods cursing me with _you_ for a goodbrother?”

Theon returned her scowl with an unpleasant smile. "Nice to see you, too, Highness."

Rhaenys ignored his tone, turning back to her brother. "What do you want Eggy?"

"We're going for a horseback ride in the Winter Woods." His smile was far too chipper.

Rhaenys eyed him. "So?"

"You're coming with us."

"Uh, no, I'm not." She made to shut the door but Aegon's boot-clad foot got in the way. 

"Come on, Rhae," he wheedled. "It'll be good for you. Jon's going and you said you wanted to spend time with him."

"Couldn't I spend time with him after breakfast?" Rhaenys whined.

Aegon shoved an apple and a granola bar at her. "Here you go. Hurry up and eat, we'll meet you down at the stables."

"I hate you!" She called after them.

"Love you too!" Aegon's voice echoed as he disappeared down the hall.

Rhaenys sighed, turning back to her room. _A morning ride. Joy._

"Was that Aegon I heard?" 

Rhaenys glanced over her shoulder as she pulled out a pair of navy riding breeches from her large duffle bag. Elia leaned on the door jam, watching her, arms crossed over her chest.

" _Sí_ ," Rhaenys answered. "He is very awake this morning. _No se por que_."

Elia shrugged. "Ah well. Have fun on your ride."

Rhaeny tugged on a sports bra. “What are you doing this morning?”

“I think Lyanna is going to show me around Wintertown.”

“Mamá,” Rhaenys laughed, “are you blushing?”

Elia covered her face. “ _No, no lo soy y no puedes probar nada_.”

“Yes I can prove it!” Rhaenys grabbed at Elia’s hands, forcing them down. Red stained her mother’s brown cheeks. “See, blushing! Mamá, do you have a crush?”

“It’s not nice to laugh.”

Rhaenys grinned, completely unrepentant. “ _¿No lo has oído, Mamá? Soy la reina del hielo.”_

Elia frowned. “You are not an Ice Queen, Rhae. You’re just reserved.”

A warm, fluttery feeling filled her chest. So Robb wasn’t her Romantic. She didn’t need him to be. She had a mom and dad who loved her unconditionally and, if yesterday and Mamá’s blush were any indication, she would soon have a stepmother as well. “Are you happy, Mamá?” she asked. “Is Lyanna good to you?”

The creases in Elia’s forehead smoothed. “Yes, _mija_ , so far she is very good.” Carefully, she smoothed a strand of short dark hair back from Rhaenys’ face. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Rhaenys hugged her mother. “ _Sí_ , Mamá, I’m okay. I think it’s a good thing.”

Elia returned the hug, squeezing her tight before letting go. “ _Gracias, mija_. Now hurry up and get dressed before Eggy comes back. You know he has no patience.”

When Rhaenys exited the guest quarters she found [ a tall, redheaded girl ](https://vietnamhumanhairs.com/wp-content/uploads/wet-straight-red-hair.png) of about sixteen waiting for her. The girl smiled and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Sansa Stark. You must be Rhaenys.”

Rhaenys returned the handshake, smiling politely but with no real emotion. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sorry to have missed you at dinner last night,” Sansa said, still smiling. “Are you feeling better?”

Rhaenys nodded. “Yes, much better, thank you. Are you also going for a morning ride?"

Sansa nodded. “We’re meeting over by the Hunter’s Gate,” she explained, leading her to the right.

A group of four humans and six horses stood in front of the gate. Rhaenys’ stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of Robb’s dark red hair but she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. 

“Hey, Jon,” she greeted her half-brother. 

Jon grinned. “Hey, Rhae - I mean, is it alright if I call you Rhae? Should I say Your Highness?” His dark eyes glanced nervously at Aegon, obviously seeking help.

Rhaenys barked a laugh. “Eggy told you?”

Jon nodded sheepishly. “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. I’m not stupid, I swear.”

She shook her head, still laughing. “Don’t worry about it. You’re my brother. You can call me literally anything you like; Aegon does.”

“My favorite is Hellspawn,” Aegon supplied unhelpfully.

“Some babies are dropped on their heads,” Rhaenys retorted, “but I was there when Mamá threw you against a wall.”

Someone behind her laughed. She turned, prepared to share a grin with whoever it was, and dark blue eyes met hers. Robb Stark smiled at her. “I’m pretty sure Mom did that to Underfoot.” 

Jon laughed. “Don’t let Arya hear you say that.”

Rhaenys pressed her lips together. She would prefer to keep her distance from Robb Stark. She can be okay with him not being her Romantic but his “too Dornish” comment still stung. Politeness was required, Robb Stark would one day be Warden of North, but she doubted they would ever be friends.

He held out the reins to a [ strong snow white mare ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/29/61/69/29616997ab9ae94c5501b76fafaf8d05.jpg). “This is Frosty.”

Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, taking the reins. “Frosty?”

Robb grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Bran named her.”

There was something about his smile. It was endearing in a way that made her uncomfortable. Instead of facing him, she turned to the mare and ran her hands over the soft white neck. 

“Ready to go?” Aegon asked. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Rhaenys swung into the saddle, settling into the seat and pretending not to feel a pair of dark blue eyes on her. 

Sansa trotted to the front of the group on [ a pretty little blood bay ](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/66/a1/ce/66a1cefe4c96ae633210bba655abe404.jpg), starting what sounded like a rehearsed tour, telling phantom stories of the Winter Woods and the history of Winterfell. 

Rhaenys tried to pay attention to the tour as they made their way through ancient trees as wide as she was tall, mist curling across the forest floor. The sun was just rising, pale rays of golden light piercing the canopy. Crisp, cold air brushed against her cheeks and she tugged her jacket a little closer, grateful Mamá insisted she bring some of her Dornish winter wear. 

Sansa’s clear voice was musical, floating through the air like birdsong, but the words slipped past Rhaenys’ ear. She was too aware of the wilderness - and of her trail partner.

Robb Stark rode the same tall chestnut from the day before, the horse’s head held high, ears flicking back and forth. Yet, he didn’t seem to be paying attention. 

She glanced at him and then hurriedly refocused on Aegon’s curls bouncing in front of her. For a single moment his blue eyes met hers and a zing sparked down her spine. 

“You, uh, you sleep alright?” His low voice reached her ears over the gentle thud of horse hooves on the dirt path. 

The reins were soft in her hands and she sat a little straighter. “I slept well, thank you.”

“How do you like The North so far?”

Finally, Rhaenys turned her head and met his gaze squarely. “It’s cold.”

The color drained from Robb’s face. He licked his lips nervously. “About that -”

“I’m sure you meant nothing by it,” Rhaenys cut him off smoothly. “After all, Dorne is very different from The North. It is only natural to assume I am unaccustomed to your climate. If you’ll excuse me.” 

Up ahead the trail widened and Rhaenys nudged Frosty into an easy trot, moving up to ride on the other side of Jon. “ _Hola, hermanito._ ”

Jon’s head whipped around and he blinked owlishly at her. “Her-man-ito?”

Rhaenys flashed a grin. “ _Hermanito_ ,” she repeated. “It means little brother.”

Jon flushed prettily. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Of course I don’t have to,” Rhaenys replied gently, “but I want to.”

“Hey,” Aegon laughed on Jon’s other side, “don’t go stealing _mi Platónico_.”

Rhaenys leaned forward in her saddle to look around Jon. Aegon grinned at her, purple eyes sparkling in the early morning light. “ _Hermanito_ beats _Platónico,”_ she informed him.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ah-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ah-huh.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ah-huh. Jon, tie-breaker. Who do you like better?”

Jon, whose head had bounced between them like a ping-pong, shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I am not picking favorites.”

“He’s only saying that because he found out you’re the princess and he doesn’t want to offend you.”

“Really?’ Rhaenys’ eyebrow rose and she turned the full force of her Targaryen purple gaze on Jon who looked terrified at having her full attention. “And what does the newest Prince of Westeros think?”

“N-newest prince?” Jon stuttered. “No. No, no, no. _No._ I am _not_ a prince.”

Rhaenys laughed to see his terror. “Oh yes you are. When Papá told me about you I told him he either legitimized you or I was going to tell Mamá he was being derelict in his fatherly duties.” She lifted her nose smugly. She might not have known Jon for the first sixteen years of his life but she fully intended to make up for it. The first step was public acknowledgement. 

* * *

“Did you see?” Robb wailed, hands over his face.

If it weren’t so funny, Sansa would feel sorry for him. “Yeah, I saw.” 

Sorrowful blue eyes stared up at her between fingers. “What am I supposed to do? She hates me! She literally _rode away from me!_ ”

“Keep trying to talk to her?” Sansa suggested.

“What am I supposed to _say?”_

Jon, who had taken a moment away from bonding with his new half-siblings to listen to Robb bitch and moan, rolled his eyes. “ _Gods_ , Robb, when did you get so useless?”

“Hey,” Robb jumped to his feet, “I’m not the guy who didn’t realize his platinum blond, purple-eyed father was the prince!”

“It’s not like I pay attention to tabloids!”

“It’s common knowledge!”

“Boys!” Sansa shouted over the bellowing. They turned, blinking at her. She planted her hands on her hips. Had they really forgotten she was there?

“Look, I’ve fixed the problem for you,” she informed Robb. 

Robb’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

“I told Arya to take Rhaenys to the hot springs,” Sansa said primly. 

“The hot springs?” Robb tilted his head. 

Sansa rolled her eyes, heaving a deep sigh. “Yes, the hot springs.”

“How long do you think they’ll be there?” Jon asked. 

“I don’t think they have any plans to leave.” Sansa shrugged. “I believe the princess said ‘If we die, we die.’”

“How does Rhaenys being in the hot springs solve my problem?” Robb demanded.

Sansa closed her eyes, dredging up the last grains of her patience. When the hell did her brother become such a gods-damned himbo? “Robb, where are your Names?”

He pointed helpfully, as if she didn’t already know. “My biceps, one on each arm.”

“Ah-huh. And what part of your body would be exposed if you were to, say, change into your swimsuit and go to the hot springs?”

His finger moved to his sternum. “My chest.”

“What else?” she prodded. _Gods he’s thick._

Jon, who seemed to currently have possession of the one brain cell he and Robb usually shared, threw up his hands. “Your arms, Robb! Bloody hell, your _arms_ will be exposed!”

Robb’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

* * *

Rhaenys leaned her head back against the side of the pool. Hot water bubbled around her, steam rising in a pale mist. Arya sat across from her, short brown hair plastered to her head. Rhaenys suspected she looked much the same but she didn’t care. Halfway through the morning ride flakes of icy cold began drifting from the sky, coating her in white. 

The Stark family’s joy at “summer snow” made Rhaenys want to scream. How could anyone be excited about bloody summer snow?

Rhaenys fully intended to never leave the hot springs for the next two weeks, not until Elia came to get her and they went back home. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve been warm since crossing the Neck.”

Arya cracked an eye. “Seriously?”

“Come to Dorne some day,” Rhaenys replied, “then you’ll understand.”

“If you go to Dorne do you mind if I tag along?”

The masculine voice drifted through the steam. Rhaenys turned, water lapping at her chest. Robb Stark strode across the bath house, towel slung over his neck. He wore only a pair of blue swim trunks, exposing the faint outline of abs and the strong muscles of his shoulders and arms. 

Rhaenys kept her face impassive even as she wanted to lick her lips. The boy was very attractive. Robb hung his towel on the wall hook before making his way over to the large pool. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked even as he slid into the water without waiting for an answer. 

Arya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” The tiny girl stood. “You two have fun. I am so not here for the awkward.” 

Without further explanation, Arya grabbed her towel and exited the bath house, leaving Rhaenys alone with Robb Stark. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably and she debated following Arya out, but that would involve leaving the warmth of the hot springs. 

_Not worth it._

The silence was only broken by the bubbling of water. Rhaenys shifted on the pool’s bench seat. She would not show emotion. She could not offend him, this boy who would be Warden of The North. Best to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she settled more comfortably in the hot springs, tilting her head back to stare up at the shadowy ceiling.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Rhaenys blinked, bringing her eyes down from the ceiling to focus on Robb. He sat across from her. His blue eyes were set earnestly on her face, piercing her. “What did you want to talk about?” Her words were careful, clipped and formal. 

She saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath, as if he was bracing himself.

“I have your name.”

Rhaenys jerked. “ _What?_ ”

He pointed to his bicep. The edge of black script was visible just above the water. “I have your name. Right here.”

She shook her head. Her heart thudded in her ears. “You cannot possibly have my name on your skin.”

Robb stood. Water trickled down his alabaster skin. Her mouth dried and her eyes widened as he stepped closer. The water cut across the middle of his stomach, reaching his elbows and exposing his broad shoulders - and the names black as night on his pale skin. 

_Sansa_ on his left. And…

She swallowed hard. 

Slowly, carefully, she stood. The motion brought her inches from him but she didn’t notice. Rhaenys was transfixed by the curling name on Robb Stark’s right bicep, the perfect mimic of her own handwriting. 

Her hand reached, unbidden, fingertip tracing the letters with the barest touch. Robb’s breath shook. 

Rhaenys looked up. Blue eyes burned, setting her whole body afire. “It’s you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rough. 

She swallowed. “For what?”

“For what I said yesterday.”

Lightning flashed up her spine, anger reigniting in her chest. “And, why, pray tell, did you say what you said?”

The flush brought on by the heat of the hot springs darkened across his cheeks. “I’m stupid.”

Rhaenys’ mouth twitched, unable to keep her anger burning. “You’re not wrong.”

Robb leaned a little closer, his own mouth twitching. “I promise I’ll never say it again.”

She tilted her head. “You’d better not.”

“I won't,” he promised. 


End file.
